Here Comes the Sun
by Sarahbob
Summary: Combeferre moved to Paris to study medicine, leaving his younger friend behind to finish school. Things haven't been easy for Enjolras at home and one cold evening he has had enough. He leaves in search of his best friend, who only then realizes how miserable Enjolras has truly been.
1. Chapter 1

_ (One moment you lack inspiration for months and then suddenly your head is flowing with ideas. I couldn't leave this unwritten, so I decided to put it on paper and throw it on here to see what you think!)_

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Enjolras shivered as the cold winter weather tried it's best to creep its way into his bones. He was standing here on the platform for nearly an hour now, waiting for the train that would take him to Paris. It was only six in the evening, but it was already dark out and Enjolras mentally kicked himself for forgetting to grab his coat when he left his father's house. But he had left in such a hurry; he had wanted to get out of the house as fast as possible. Remembering to dress warmly was nowhere on his mind. He shivered again and he tried to hide away further in his hoodie.

He was never going back. Never. He had had enough and he couldn't take it anymore. Enjolras clenched his jaw and buried his hands deep in his pockets. He hated his father. He hated him. And yet he still loved him so much. They had been always been so close. Until the accident. Until it all changed. Tears burned behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't cry. He had shed enough tears in the past six months and he was sick of it.

He could still hear his father's words that the man had shouted after him when he ran out of the house. His hands still shook from the adrenaline with which he had thrown his phone against the wall of his bedroom in an attempt to deal with the rage that ran through his body. He regretted that decision now of course, because it left him on his way to Paris without a phone and therefore he couldn't contact anyone about where he was or where he was going.

Not that it really mattered. He knew where he was going and he knew that he'd be welcome there. He hadn't seen his best friend in weeks now, but they contacted each other daily and he knew Combeferre's door was always open for him. Even if he couldn't let him know that he was coming. Of course, it would've been a lot easier if he'd just gone to Courfeyrac or Jehan instead, since they lived in the same town as he did and their door was always open to him, but staying here meant that it was just as easy for his father to find him and he really didn't want to have anything to do with the man right now. Combeferre had moved to Paris at the end of the summer to study medicine and Enjolras still wasn't used to the fact that he couldn't just drop by his friend's house anymore. Now he'd first have to make a four hour trip to see him. But after the fight he'd just been in with his father, Enjolras had to get out. He had to see Combeferre and he wanted to be as far away from this town as possible.

So he had ran towards the train station, bought a ticket to the first train to Paris with the little money he had with him and now waited for the train to arrive. He had pulled the hood of his sweater over his head and tried to keep his face hidden as much as possible. His father had hit him pretty hard and Enjolras would be surprised if there wasn't an impressive bruise decorating his jaw. Luckily it was dark out and now one seemed to pay attention to the young teenager standing alone in the cold without as much as a jacket.

_When you leave this house, you're never coming back! You hear me, Julien? You're never coming back!_

His father's words echoed in his head and he closed his eyes. It wouldn't be the first time the man had made such a threat. This wasn't their first fight nor was it the first time that Enjolras had left the house head over heels. He would usually be stalked by phone calls and text messages from his father within two hours or so, but that wouldn't be an option now, because Enjolras didn't have his phone anymore. And he was glad for it, because he was never coming back. Never before had one of their fights gotten so out of hand as it had tonight and Enjolras was fed up with it all. He didn't care if his father was sorry. He didn't care if he apologized and he didn't care if he begged him to come back home. He wouldn't. Never.

The young man let out a relieved sigh when the train finally arrived. Only a few more hours and he'd be with his friend. Despite his bad mood, he allowed himself to feel a little excited. He was looking forward to seeing Combeferre again. It had been such a long time. He knew Combeferre's Christmas break would soon start, so maybe they could even spend a little time in Paris together before Combeferre wanted to come back home to his parents.

He stepped inside and took a seat. It was warm in the train and crowded. Enjolras soon found himself drift off to sleep to the soft murmuring of the people around him.

* * *

Combeferre jumped up from the couch at the sound of the kettle whistling. It had been a long, stressful day and he really needed some time to relax. He'd only come home an hour ago, way past dinnertime, after spending the whole afternoon and part of the evening in the library with Joly studying for their exams. He'd grabbed a greasy sandwich on his way home and was now looking forward to watch a few episodes of his favorite show while enjoying a hot cup of tea. He'd send a message to Enjolras earlier that evening to update his younger friend on his day and ask him how he was doing, but he hadn't got anything in return yet. Of course, that wasn't all that surprising. Once Enjolras was busy with his studies, he hardly had eye for anything else. And knowing the young blond, Enjolras could easily work his way well into the night.

But Combeferre couldn't help but feel a little worried. Things hadn't been going all too well for his friend at home lately and the fact that Combeferre wasn't in the neighborhood anymore didn't make it easier for Enjolras. Six months ago, he and his mother had gotten into a car accident. They were hit by a drunk driver and Enjolras' mother had died on the spot. Enjolras however, was severely injured and was brought to the hospital. He didn't wake up a week later, when the funeral had already taken place and it was up to Combeferre to break the news to his friend, since his father was a complete wreck and hardly showed up at the hospital at all.

Of course, Enjolras was devastated. He and his mother had been really close and the poor boy hadn't even been able to say his final goodbye's. Combeferre had known his friend all his life, but never had he seen him break down like this. It was heartbreaking and it still hurt to think about it. What made it even worse, was that the loss of his mother had pushed Enjolras and his father apart. Neither one of them wanted to speak of their grief. They hardly spoke at all and after only a few weeks, Enjolras' father tried to drown his grief in alcohol. He drank more and more and he and Enjolras got in a fight every other day. No one would've ever believed it if they were told that father and son had been really close only six months ago. It had been extremely hard on Enjolras when Combeferre left for Paris that summer, only two months after the accident. Of course the young blond was happy for his best friend, but Combeferre knew he felt abandoned, despite the best efforts of their other friends who were still in high school with Enjolras. Combeferre made sure he contacted Enjolras every day to see how he was doing, but it wasn't the same and the medical student knew his friend didn't always open up the way he did when they were together. He'd only been back home two times after leaving and both times he was only there for a weekend. He couldn't wait for his Christmas break to start so that he'd finally be able to visit his hometown for two whole weeks.

Combeferre prepared his tea and set it down on the table in front of the couch. He then moved to close the drapes and made a face as he watched the rain come pouring down. He prayed the weather would be better soon. It had been raining pretty much nonstop the past few days and Combeferre was sick of arriving at school soaking wet. It was a miracle he had not fallen ill yet.

Just as he was about to curl up on the couch and enjoy the remainder of his evening, there was a soft knock on the door. Combeferre frowned. He didn't expect anyone and besides, who would come to his tiny apartment at ten thirty in the evening anyway? With a deep sigh, he pushed himself off the couch and walked towards the front door. The sight that met him when he opened up momentarily took his breath away.

Right there in front of him was his young friend. He was shivering violently and his clothes were completely sodden. The hair that was buried under his hood was plastered to his face and he looked positively miserable. But what shocked Combeferre the most were the deep blue – almost black – bruise on Enjolras' jaw and the defeated look in his friend's eyes.

"Hi 'Ferre… C-Can I stay with you for a while?"

TBC.

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_(Hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you think)_


	2. Chapter 2

(_Hi guys! Thanks for the support on this story. Means a lot! Hope you like the second chapter, enjoy!)_

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Combeferre just stood there staring for a minute. He couldn't really believe what he was seeing. Enjolras was in Paris? Just like that? Why hadn't he called? Why hadn't he let Combeferre know that he was coming? What was he doing here at ten thirty? Why was he dressed in nothing more than a sweater when it was raining and cold outside and how on earth did he get that bruise?

Enjolras raised his eyebrows as he watched Combeferre stare at him in surprise. He could imagine his friend wasn't expecting him to show up unannounced at his doorstep this late in the evening, but surely it shouldn't be such a shock to see him? Enjolras frowned and stood a little straighter under the scrutinizing look Combeferre was giving him.

"Combeferre?" He asked again, this time a little more hesitant. Did Combeferre not want him here? Maybe he should've tried to find a way to contact his friend before dropping by out of nowhere. "Ferre, can I come in?"

Combeferre blinked rapidly and scratched his head. It took a second for him to realize that Enjolras was actually speaking to him. He hurriedly stepped aside and nodded his head. "Yes... Yes of course... Enjolras, what are you doing here? What happened? Are you alright?"

Enjolras didn't respond right away but slowly walked passed Combeferre and inside the little apartment. He had only been here once in the past four months and that was just after Combeferre had settled here. He had travelled together with Combeferre's parents and Courfeyrac to bring his best friend the last of his stuff. It hadn't been quite ready back then, Combeferre still had some decorating to do and not everything was unpacked yet, but Enjolras had already felt at home in the two room apartment. And now that he was back here, that feeling had only grown stronger. Enjolras smiled as he looked around. There were three bookcases, stuffed to the fullest with all sorts of books. One large couch, a chair and a television in the corner. The kitchen table was small and could fit three people at most, but only if it would first be cleared of all the papers and notes that were lying around there. What made Enjolras' heart swell most however, was the large frame hanging above the television, in which Courfeyrac and Enjolras had made a collage consisting of various photos of their group of friends. They had given it to Combeferre for his birthday a few months before he would move to Paris... And a few weeks before the awful accident happened. Enjolras' eyes fixed on the photo in the middle which was of the two of them taken on the day that Enjolras turned five years old. They were both wearing a paper crown and were smiling happily at the camera with their arms hooked around each others shoulders. He didn't really remember that day, only that his mother had insisted on taking that picture, while Enjolras and Combeferre didn't want their photo taken at all. He was now glad his mother had stood her ground.

Enjolras shivered and he vaguely wondered if it was just because of the wet clothes or maybe because of the memories that came back to him as he watched the pictures.

"Julien," Combeferre's voice brought Enjolras back to the present and he slowly turned around to face his friend. But Combeferre had already made his way to the younger blond and he placed one hand on the nape of Enjolras' neck and the other on his shoulder. "What happened, mon ami?" He sounded so concerned and Enjolras felt slightly guilty for worrying his friend on what should have been a relaxing Wednesday night for him.

Enjolras looked at Combeferre apologetically and he tried to shrug his shoulders. "D-dad and I... We... W-we had another f-fight and I d-didn't want to stay there any l-longer," Enjolras mumbled through chattering teeth. He was cold, his hair was still dripping rain, his jaw throbbed mercilessly and he was so very tired. He wanted to tell Combeferre why he had come, of course he did, but right now he wanted nothing more than to curl up under a pile of warm blankets and fall asleep.

Combeferre let out a small sigh and gently squeezed the nape of his friend's neck. It wouldn't be the first time that Enjolras had run away from home after a fight, but he usually went to Courfeyrac or Jehan and only send Combeferre a text message about what happened and where he was. Never before had he gone all the way to Paris. For him to do so now, told Combeferre that this time the fighting with his father had gotten out of hand. And then of course there was also that impressive bruise on Enjolras' jaw that seemed to serve as prove. Combeferre swallowed his sudden anger and disappointment towards Monsieur Enjolras and forced himself to focus on his friend first. He gently took him by the shoulders and pushed him towards his tiny bathroom.

"You're freezing," Combeferre said quietly instead of responding to Enjolras' explanation of why he had come to Paris. That could wait. "Come on, you need to get out of those clothes or you'll get sick. Why on earth are you only wearing a hoodie, Julien? It's December, for heaven's sake." He shook his head in quiet frustration and turned on the shower. Then he hurried out of the bathroom only to come back in less than a minute later carrying sweatpants and a shirt. Enjolras was standing in the middle of the tiny room, still in his wet clothes. He looked lost and it hurt Combeferre to see his young friend like that. He placed the clothes, and a towel, on a small cabinet next to the sink and pulled Enjolras in a tight hug. He didn't care that his friend's sodden clothes got him wet as well. Enjolras didn't hug him back, but he did lean towards Combeferre and momentarily hid his face against his older friend's shoulder. "You need to warm up Enjolras," Combeferre said softly as he tightened his hold for a second and then let go again. "Take a shower, put on something dry and then come sit with me on the couch. We can talk about it if you want, but if you'd rather get some sleep first, then that's okay too. One thing at a time, alright. First a shower. I'll be right outside."

Enjolras nodded and managed a small smile. He whispered a silent thanks and waited until Combeferre closed the door behind him. Then he quickly took off his clothes and stepped under the welcome warmth that the shower offered. He very much appreciated it that Combeferre wasn't forcing him to start telling the whole story right away. Then again, his lifelong friend always seemed to understand exactly what Enjolras needed, so it did not come as a surprise.

* * *

While Enjolras was in the shower, Combeferre moved back into the kitchen to make his friend a cup of hot streaming tea as well. His own tea was still on the sidetable in front of the couch, probably already getting cold, but the young medical student didn't care. His heart felt heavy with worry and he wanted nothing more than to sit down with Enjolras and hear everything his best friend had to say. Combeferre had no doubt that it was Enjolras' father who was responsible for the bruise on his sons face, but he didn't really understand why that happened. Combeferre knew that ever since the accident, monsieur Enjolras had been losing himself. He had seen it happen and he heard the stories of his friends and parents. The poor man couldn't cope with the loss of his wife and he was consumed by grief. So much so that he didn't have room in his mind to remember that he still had a son who was very much alive and who needed his father desperately even though he was to proud to admit it. Enjolras on the other hand hadn't exactly dealt with his loss much better, but he had his friends, his studies and his extracurricular activities that offered some form of distraction. Both father and son had gone in opposite directions. Monsieur Enjolras found his temporary relief in alcohol, shutting himself off from the world more and more. The company he ran had been placed in the hands of his friend, monsieur de Courfeyrac, just until the poor man got back on his feet, even though no one knew if that was ever going to happen. Enjolras responded to his grief in the exact opposite way and tried to be busy as much as he could. He took extra shifts at the Café, he spent more time on his meetings and even more time on his studies. He was almost always in the company of his friends, just so he didn't have to be alone and he hardly ever spoke about his mother. These different reaction however caused father and son to collide more often than not. They didn't understand each other anymore and the only words spoken between them were formalities or when they got into a fight.

But no matter how awful the fight, one of them would always apologize and they would make up until it all started over again. And though Combeferre was worried about his best friend's home situation, he had always thought that Enjolras was safe. He didn't want to believe that his friend's father had crossed that line and had actually physically hurt his son. It couldn't go on like this, of that Combeferre was sure.

With a deep sigh, he sat down on the couch, turned on the tv and waited for Enjolras to appear from the bathroom. He sipped from his lukewarm tea and let his eyes drift towards the pictures Enjolras was studying earlier. It always calmed him down to see the photos of his good friends. They all brought back happy memories and gave him a warm feeling inside. After ten minutes or so, Combeferre heard the lock of the bathroom door turn and he looked back to see a now comfortably dressed Enjolras standing in the doorway. His hair was a tousled mess, sticking out from all sides. It would have been funny if it wasn't for the ugly mark on his young friend's face.

Combeferre smiled at Enjolras and patted the space next to him. "Come sit. I've made you some tea."

Enjolras smiled back and did as Combeferre told him. He gratefully accepted the woollen blanket his older friend gave him and wrapped himself around it before reaching for his tea. They sat like that in silence for a couple of minutes, both watching the television, but not really seeing what was on. Then Combeferre turned around to face Enjolras.

"Are you still cold?" He asked friendly.

Enjolras shook his head, but unconsciously huddled further in the blanket. "No... The shower helped. So do the tea and the blanket... Thanks 'Ferre." He couldn't help but wince when he spoke the words. Now that the cold wasn't numbing his whole body anymore, the pain in his jaw had intensified and it hurt to speak.

Combeferre nodded and moved a little closer to his friend. He reached out and carefully traced a finger across the bruise. Enjolras hissed and tried to pull away, which only caused Combeferre's concern to up a notch. "That doesn't look good, Julien," he said seriously and he frowned. The skin was hot to the touch and swollen. And if as much as a gentle touch already hurt that much, then Combeferre wouldn't be surprised if they were dealing with something more serious than just a bruise. "If the swelling hasn't gone down tomorrow we're going to see a doctor and have him take some pictures. It might be fractured." Combeferre gently moved his hand to rest on Enjolras' shoulder and opened his mouth hesitatingly. Even though he feared he already knew the answer, he still needed to ask it. Just to be sure. "Julien... Did your father do this? Is that why you came all the way here?"

Enjolras just nodded and let out a defeated sigh. He didn't look at Combeferre and just stared blankly ahead. His eyes were heavy with sleep and he had a hard time keeping them open now that he was sitting comfortably on the couch with a warm blanket wrapped around him. Enjolras realized that Combeferre probably wanted him to elaborate, but it hurt so much to speak and he wasn't exactly looking forward to relive the fight with his father. Just when he opened his mouth to try and give Combeferre what he thought his friend wanted, the medical student stood from the couch and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back he was carrying a glass of water and a box of painkillers. Enjolras gave him a questioning look but before he could say anything, Combeferre spoke.

"I won't deny that I have many questions and I'm anxious to know what on earth happened at home tonight, but I know you're in pain, Julien, and I'm not expecting you to talk right now. And I think it might be better for you not to. Here, take two of these and then I think it would be best for you if you'd try and get some sleep. It's been a long night, no doubt, and you look exhausted."

Enjolras stared at Combeferre for a second and then gave him a thankful smile. He took the pills and the water and followed his friend into the bedroom, that contained a small bed. Enjolras was about to protest when Combeferre pushed him down, but his older friend beat him to it.

"I'm taking the couch tonight. Don't worry, it's big enough and actually quite comfortabel. Just lie down and go to sleep alright? Tomorrow is a new day and then we'll figure it all out. I'll call you in sick for school, so you don't have to worry about that either. You're probably far ahead anyway."

The fact that Enjolras just turned on his side and nodded, worried Combeferre some more. Enjolras hated missing school, even when he was sick, he tried his best to convince everyone that he was well enough to go.

"Good night, mon petit ami," Combeferre said softly as he turned off the light. He heard Enjolras mutter something unintelligible in response and closed the door with a small smile.

* * *

Combeferre sat back down on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose. This night had turned out quite different from how he had planned it. He no longer felt like watching his show, so instead he stood and pulled a book from one of the bookcases. He didn't think he would read much after everything that had happened that night, but it might take his mind off things for a little while. It was worth a shot.

He made himself comfortable on the couch, pulled the blanket Enjolras had been wrapped around up to his chin and fished his phone out of his pocket to put it in the charger for the night. When he checked the screen, he saw he had two missed calls and received a message from Courfeyrac no more than fifteen minutes ago. He didn't need to check them to know what they were about, but he did so anyway.

_Ferre, something's wrong. Enj and his dad got into a fight again and he left the house, but he's not with me, neither is he with Jehan, your parents or Grantaire. His phone is dead and his dad is freaking out. _

Combeferre pulled a hand through his hair and shook his head. Of course his father would freak out. He had probably come back to his senses. He quickly typed back a message to his friend. _He's with me, don't worry. Call you tomorrow_.

Just when he was about to switch his phone off, the screen lit up again to reveil a caller. Combeferre's heart skipped a beat as a watched the name appearing on the screen. For a second, he wanted to ignore the call but he had too much of a good conscience to let it go unanswered.

"Monsieur Enjolras... What a surprise"

The man on the other side of the phone didn't catch up on Combeferre's sarcasm. He was breathing rapidly and spoke in such a slurred voice that Combeferre had to concentrate to hear every word.

"Etienne? Etienne is that you? I need your help. Julien... Julien and I. We had a fight and I can't find him. I don't know where he is and his.. his phone is broken... I-I can't find him...and he needs to know! H-he needs to know I didn't mean for that to happen. Etienne you need to help me look. I can't lose him, I-I can't..."

TBC.

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_(Hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you think. Would mean a lot!)_


	3. Chapter 3

_(Thanks again for all the support! Means a lot to me :) I've really missed writing for this fandom. Here's the next chapter, hope you like it!)_

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Combeferre listened as Enjolras' father rambled on in a desperation filled voice. But instead of feeling sorry for the man, Combeferre got angry. He clenched his fist and bit his tongue to refrain from lashing out at the man. It wouldn't be any use; he was obviously still drunk if his slurred speech was anything to go by.

"Etienne? Are you… Are you s-still there? Do you know where to find him, I don't know where he is. I've got t-to find him…"

Combeferre closed his eyes in quiet frustration and uttered a sigh. Even though he really didn't want to, he knew he couldn't lie to Enjolras' father. The man was genuinely concerned – with good reason after what he did to his son – and Combeferre knew that no matter how awful their fights could get, the man did love his son. "Yes, monsieur, I am still here. Please try to calm down. Julien is safe. He is with me."

Now it was Enjolras' father's turn to keep silent, although Combeferre could still hear his ragged breathing. "N-No… Etienne, what do you mean he is with you? I-I called your parents, he's not t-there… I have to find him please…" The man sounded so confused and Combeferre could almost bring himself to feel sorry for him were it not for the pained expression on his best friend's injured face that haunted his vision.

"Not with my parents, monsieur. He's with me, in Paris." Combeferre pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already past midnight and the poor medical student was exhausted. He had been studying for days on end and tomorrow afternoon he had his first exam. Never had he expected the end of this day to turn out the way it did. He was in need of some relaxation and instead all he got was concern, anger and sadness. He just wanted to go to sleep.

"Paris?" Monsieur Enjolras repeated quietly, almost too soft for Combeferre to hear. "H-He went all the way to Paris? Why? I-I need to speak with him Etienne, put him on the p-phone p-please…"

Now Combeferre wasn't able to keep his anger in check anymore. "Why?" he repeated incredulously, "You're asking me _why_ he came to Paris?" He sat up straight and threw a cautious look towards the closed bedroom door. He didn't want Enjolras to wake up and hear the conversation he was having with his father. "Because you hit him and he needed to get as far away from you as possible, that's why," Combeferre hissed through clenched teeth.

Again all he could hear on the other side was silence. But Combeferre didn't care, he had a lot to say to Enjolras' father and he could go on for hours if he must. He had been wanting to speak his mind for months now.

"You don't get to speak with him. I don't know what happened between the two of you tonight, but you have gone too far, monsieur, and I've had it up to here. For months you've been neglecting him, just as you've been neglecting yourself. You've hurt him time and again with your vicious words and your drunken behavior. And I never said a word to you, because I figured you just needed to deal with your grief in your own way and you would turn around eventually, but now you've actually gone and hit him. You've crossed the line and I will not have it. You won't get to speak to him. Not tonight. He's been through enough and he doesn't need your drunken apologies right now."

There was a small sob on the other end of the line and then another, but Combeferre could care less. "E-Etienne…please, y-you're right, but please… I didn't mean to do that, that was never s-supposed to happen. He needs to know, p-please… P-please let me speak to him. P-please let me explain… I'm his father, you c-can't keep me from speaking to my s-son."

Combeferre rolled his eyes, but chose not to comment on the man's futile attempt to play the father-card. He let out another deep sigh and tried to bring his voice back to a calm and explanatory tone. "Monsieur Enjolras… You're still drunk. You should go and sleep it off. Julien is safe with me, he'll always be safe with me and you can call me tomorrow when you're sober. I will not have this discussion with you while you're drunk. Neither will you get to speak to Julien unless you're sober. You can apologize to him all you want, but I need you to actually remember the apologies you make to him."

"No, no please Etienne… D-don't hang up, please don't hang up the phone."

But Combeferre shook his head. "I _am_ hanging up. You called to know where Julien is and now you know. Have a good night, monsieur. I'll speak with you tomorrow." And with that he hang up and switched off his phone. He had no doubt that Enjolras' father would keep on calling him until the man passed out and he wasn't in the mood for that. He needed to sleep. Combeferre honestly believed that monsieur Enjolras regretted his actions and he was certain that his apologies would be sincere, but he refused to let the man get away with it that easily. He meant what he had said. This had gone too far and it couldn't go on like that any longer. Enjolras had suffered enough and now that he was here with Combeferre, the medical student was prepared to do anything in his power to keep him safe.

He fell back against his pillow and pulled the blanket as far up as his chin. Then he draped one arm across his eyes while with his other arm he put out the small light that was on the side table next to the couch. When darkness engulfed him, Combeferre opened his eyes again and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had transpired in the late hours of the evening. He thought about his best friend – now sleeping soundly in his bedroom – and how he had turned up at his apartment soaking wet and with that hurt, haunted look in his eyes. Combeferre wondered how things could have escalated this much in the few months that he had been away. Enjolras hardly told him anything over the phone, just the few harsh words that were uttered between him and his father. But Combeferre heard different stories from Courfeyrac and from Grantaire and from Jehan and he knew Enjolras kept things from him. And even though the medical student understood that it must not be easy to discuss things like that over the phone, it still hurt a little to know that he no longer knew all the details of his best friend's life.

Tomorrow was another day and he would deal with everything then. There was nothing he could do about the whole situation right now anyway. Combeferre lay thinking like that for another thirty minutes or so until he finally fell into a restless sleep. He woke up again early in the morning to the sound of the toilet flushing. When he opened his eyes, he noticed it was still dark out and he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only five thirty. Combeferre groaned softly and wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back to sleep, but something kept him from doing so. When he heard the door of the bathroom open and the quiet footsteps of someone crossing the living room, he sat up a little straighter on the couch and watched his younger friend shuffling back towards the bedroom. Even though it was dark, Combeferre still didn't miss the pained frown on Enjolras' face nor his trembling hands as he groped his way through the room. The poor teenager nearly jumped ten feet in the air when he knocked his foot against a small cabinet and sent a variety of objects to the floor.

Enjolras immediately whirled around to see if Combeferre was still asleep, but when he saw his best friend sitting up straight and watching him, he sighed in defeat. "Sorry," he whispered quietly, "I tried to be quiet." The words were so soft that Combeferre wondered if he had really heard them or if he had just read Enjolras' lips. It was obvious that his younger friend was in a lot of pain and the medical student didn't like the small sound of distress that escaped Enjolras' lips as soon as he had tried to speak.

Combeferre shook his head, turned on the small light next to him and motioned for Enjolras to come closer. Enjolras did as he was told and carefully made his way over to the couch. As soon as his friend sat down, Combeferre draped part of the blanket across Enjolras' shoulders and pulled him against his side. Enjolras didn't say anything, just let his head fall against Combeferre's shoulders and closed his eyes.

"How bad on a scale of one to ten, Julien?" Combeferre asked quietly, as he gently placed the back of his hand against his friend's forehead, feeling for a fever. Enjolras was a little warm, but Combeferre couldn't quite determine if his friend had a temperature or if it was just because of his effort to deal with his pain.

Enjolras didn't say anything. He didn't want to. It hurt too much. Just whispering those words a minute ago had already set his jaw on fire and the muscles there were throbbing painfully. So instead he just shook his head and let out a miserable sigh, leaning into the cool touch of Combeferre's hand.

"That bad, huh?" Combeferre said softly, letting his chin rest on the top of the blond curls. "Were you at least able to get some sleep?" He smiled when he felt his friend's hair tickle his nose, and knew Enjolras had nodded. They sat like that for a few minutes until Enjolras suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and let out a small whimper. He groped around for Combeferre's hand and held it tightly in his own as soon as he found it, riding out the sudden wave of pain.

Combeferre frowned worriedly. He didn't like this one bit and he carefully stood from the couch, squeezing Enjolras' shoulder reassuringly before walking into his bedroom in search for something warm to wear. When he came back out, he gently helped his friend into his own oversized University hoodie – apologizing when the action jostled Enjolras' injured jaw – and put on his jacket. He wasn't going to wait any longer. The painkillers he had given Enjolras obviously hadn't worked and his friend was in so much pain that it even hurt to breathe. Combeferre had already feared that Enjolras' father had done more damage than just bruising him, but now he was certain of it.

"Come on," Combeferre said softly while he helped Enjolras in his shoes. "It's going to be alright. We're going to take care of the pain, Julien, I promise. You can lean on me as much as you want." To his surprise, Enjolras put nearly all his weight on Combeferre as they made their way out of the little apartment and into the first cab they came across. The younger boy kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on breathing through the pain. He didn't understand why he suddenly hurt so much more. It wasn't this bad when he arrived at Combeferre's place last night. And it only made him feel all the more miserable when he realized where Combeferre was taking him. The last time he had been in a hospital he had woken up to the news that his mother had died and he feared going there.

All the way to the hospital, Enjolras kept his eyes shut and he tried to listen to Combeferre's soothing words and gentle touches. When the car came to a stop Enjolras finally opened his eyes and allowed his friend to help him out of the car. Combeferre led him to the emergency room and the minute Enjolras stepped inside the building and saw the doctors and nurses, the stretchers and patients, his heart started beating faster. The antiseptic smell penetrated his nose and he unconsciously reached for Combeferre's hand and squeezed it tight. For the moment he didn't care how childish it might look to others. He didn't want to be here. It brought back too many bad memories. Memories that were still too fresh.

TBC.

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_(A shorter chapter this time, but I hope you liked it nonetheless. Please let me know what you think and review? Means a lot!)_


	4. Chapter 4

_(Thanks again so much for your support! They always make my day. I hope you like the new chapter.)_

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Enjolras trembled slightly as he looked around the waiting room. They had been here for about an hour now and the pain was only getting worse. He didn't feel good. The pain made him nauseous, he was cold and he felt sweat trickle down his back. He didn't want to be here. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Combeferre's tear stained face telling him that he and his mother had been in an accident and that his mother hadn't made it. Every time he saw a nurse smile at him sympathetically, he flashed back to his almost catatonic father who came to pick him up once he was released from the hospital. And the words his father had shouted during their fight last night echoed painfully in his ears. _It's your fault. You were too lazy to walk to that idiotic meeting of yours. It's your fault she's dead._ It wasn't the first time his father had said those things while he was drunk, and he always took them back once he sobered up. And normally, Enjolras was able to ignore them, but now that he was here, the words suddenly hit very close to home again.

Combeferre had immediately filled out the forms concerning his medical history and the older student was getting a little frustrated that they had to wait for so long. Of course he knew there were people here who had been waiting even longer and he knew that the emergency cases were given priority, but he couldn't stand the look of pain and anxiety on his younger friend's face. Combeferre wasn't a fool. He knew it would be hard for Enjolras to go back to a hospital after the last time he had been in one, but they didn't really have a choice. If his jaw was really fractured, a doctor had to look at it and determine their best course of action. He frowned when Enjolras flinched away from him the minute he put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Sorry," Enjolras whispered. He blushed a deep red and gave Combeferre an apologetic look. "Sorry... I was just... memories..." He winced as the pain in his jaw once again spiked and looked back down at his hands. He hated this place. He wanted to go home. Well... not home, but back to Combeferre's place. Which actually qualified as home too. Didn't they always say 'home is where the heart is? Well then his father's place definitely wasn't his home right now. When Enjolras looked back up, Combeferre was just watching him with a sad smile. His eyes shone with compassion and Enjolras hated that too. He didn't want anyone's pity. It made him feel vulnerable and weak and he didn't like feeling that way. He had had enough of that for months.

"I know," Combeferre said quietly, "I'm sorry we have to wait this long. I don't know why... I had hoped we would be on our way back home by now. I'll check with the receptionist again. Surely there has to be a doctor available who can spare a few minutes to take a look at you."

Combeferre stood from his seat next to Enjolras and Enjolras really wished he wouldn't have. He didn't like to sit here alone, even if it was just for a couple of minutes. Having Combeferre next to him, made him feel grounded in some way. He let out a soft sigh and pulled a trembling hand through his tousled curls. Enjolras missed his mother terribly. He never spoke about her anymore, because the grief was still too big and he didn't want to break down every time he tried to talk about it. So now he usually walked around with a mask, telling people he was doing relatively well. He hid his true feelings behind his work and his studies, which wasn't easy, but manageable now that Combeferre had moved to Paris and wasn't able to follow his every move. Enjolras saved the tears and the sorrow for when he was alone at night. Only then did he allow the mask to fall off and to feel the painful twisting of his heart.

Combeferre's facial features were contorted in worry as he walked up to the reception desk. Enjolras had been withdrawn ever since they set foot inside the hospital, but he had locked himself further away with every passing minute to the point that, apparently, Enjolras wasn't even aware that Combeferre was still there next to him. It wasn't that Combeferre was really surprised that going to a hospital would have some sort of effect on his younger friend. He had been expecting it. But he had not expected his friend to have such a violent reaction to the whole thing. And Combeferre didn't like it at all.

"Please, miss," Combeferre said in a pleading tone when he arrived at the nurse's station, "I know it's crowded in here and I know that everyone has to wait their turn, but my friend has been sitting there for more than an hour now and he's in a lot of pain." Combeferre paused for a second and looked back at Enjolras who was sitting on the other side of the waiting room staring blankly ahead. "He is not doing so good... And he doesn't feel comfortable in a hospital... He has been in a car accident a couple of months ago and he lost his mother... Please... Isn't there a doctor who can take a quick look at him? I want to get him out of here as soon as possible..."

The nurse behind the desk looked passed Combeferre at Enjolras and felt sympathy for the boy when she took in his pale face and pained features. She offered Combeferre a sad smile and nodded. "I can't promise you anything, but I'll see what I can do."

Combeferre nodded his thanks and walked back to his younger friend. When he sat back down he carefully draped an arm around Enjolras' shoulders and pulled him a little closer against his side. "The nurse is going to try and get a doctor for you Julien... We shouldn't be here for much longer. Try and relax, okay? You're going to be fine," Combeferre said kindly, but he frowned as he noticed the tremors going through the smaller body next to him. He gently pressed his cheek against Enjolras' forehead and closed his eyes in quiet defeat. If he wasn't sure that his friend was running a fever earlier, he definitely was sure now, though it was only a small one. Combeferre just hoped that it was the rain and the cold weather from last night that caused the fever and not the beginning of an infection. Because if it was, then there was a chance that Enjolras was going to be admitted in the hospital and Combeferre really didn't want that to happen.

* * *

After another fifteen minutes or so, a nurse finally came to tell them that there was a doctor available to see them now. Combeferre smiled and let out a relieved sight. Finally. He helped Enjolras up and supported him on their way to an examination room, knowing his friend needed it more than he would ever admit. Once in the room, Enjolras took a seat on the bed, lay back and closed his eyes. He really, really didn't want to be here. He reluctantly opened his eyes again when the doctor entered the room and introduced himself.

"Good morning, my name is Doctor Matoine. I'm sorry you've had to wait so long. What seems to be the problem here?" The doctor was a kind looking woman and she smiled warmly at Combeferre and Enjolras before moving closer to take a seat on the stool next to the examination bed. Combeferre was sure she already knew what the problem was, but he appreciated her friendly approach. He knew Enjolras was in too much pain to speak, so he decided to do the talking for him. "Hello doctor, my name is Etienne Combeferre and this is my friend Julien Enjolras. I think Julien may have a fractured jaw... Uh, the bruise has been there since last night, but it didn't hurt as much back then as it does now. He can't really move it; it really hurts to speak and I believe he has also a little trouble breathing... But he hasn't thrown up, so I don't believe he has swallowed a lot of blood..."

Doctor Matoine smiled again as she listened to Combeferre and then gently traced the bruised area with her fingers, pressing softly in some places and frowning sympathetically at the noises of distress coming from her patient. "And how did this happen?" she asked kindly, not missing the warning look Enjolras shot his friend.

Combeferre hesitated. "It... It was an accident... He fell against a table top and smashed his jaw..." Combeferre could feel himself turning red and he quickly looked towards the floor. He wasn't good in lying. He never had been. But he couldn't just tell this doctor the truth could he? Enjolras was a minor and if the doctor knew his father had hit him, there would be a chance that she contacted either the police or Child Protection Service. Doctor Matoine raised an eyebrow and gave Combeferre a sceptical look. She didn't believe a word of what he was saying, of that he was sure. Then she looked back at Enjolras. "Is that what happened?" she asked seriously. "You don't have to talk, just nod or shake your head."

Enjolras nodded and the doctor sighed, but didn't say anything more on the matter. It could wait. "Okay, well, I think it was a good decision to come here this morning. I do believe we're dealing with a fracture as well, although I don't know the severity of it yet, so we'll take some X-rays first and then we can determine what course of action will be best. You're also feeling a little warm to the touch. That could be just from low resistance combined with exertion and pain, but I want to take some blood to check for infection nonetheless. Is there anything else I should know?"

Enjolras shook his head and closed his eyes again, fighting hard against the tears that burned behind his eyes ever since the doctor had been touching his jaw. Combeferre however hesitated. He knew Enjolras didn't want to talk about it, but he felt that the doctor should know about how this whole hospital visit effected his friend emotionally. Just in case. Doctor Matoine seemed to catch up on Combeferre's hesitation and nodded her head in the direction of the hall way. "Monsieur Combeferre, can I talk with you outside for a second?"

At the question, Enjolras cracked one eye open and glanced at Combeferre who shrugged and pretended not to know what it was about. He gently squeezed Enjolras' shoulder and followed Doctor Matoine out of the room.

"Now that we're outside the room, is there something you'd like to tell me?" Matoine asked kindly.

Combeferre looked back at the closed door and sighed. "Yes... Uh, I just... I don't know if Julien wants me to tell, but... b-but I think it might be better if you knew, just in case he has to stay here longer... or... or something like that. It's just that Julien really isn't comfortable here and it gets worse the longer we've been here. Six months ago he and his mother got into an accident and his mother died. Julien only woke up a week later... And being here brings back all these memories, you know, and he's trying really hard not to show it, but I know he's not doing well. He's nervous and withdrawn... and I just thought it would be better if you knew."

Doctor Matoine's face turned sad. She had read about Enjolras' medical history and she knew about the accident and the injuries her patient had sustained from it, but she didn't know about the emotional trauma and it was an awfully sad story. She nodded and gave Combeferre's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for telling me. I'll try to have the examinations done as quickly as possible and then hopefully your friend can return home within the next couple of hours. Go back inside, I'll be there soon and then we'll take the X-rays."

When Combeferre stepped back inside Enjolras' room, his friend was looking at him expectantly. The older student just smiled. "Nothing to worry about, Julien. She just wanted a few clarifications about the form I filled out earlier." Enjolras frowned but closed his eyes again, not really believing what Combeferre was saying, but not in the mood to counter it either. He relaxed a little more when he felt his best friend take hold of his hand and he softly squeezed it in return to let Combeferre know that he was glad his friend was there with him. "The doctor will be back soon... Just try to relax for now. I'm here and everything will be fine. I promise."

* * *

An hour later, Doctor Matoine came back into the room with a smile on her face. They had taken the X-rays and some of Enjolras' blood nearly forty five minutes ago. Though the results of the blood test would take a little longer, the X-rays were ready and Matoine clipped them on the light board to show them. Enjolras frowned as he immediately noticed the crack in his lower jaw. He had no idea if it was really bad, but it definitely didn't look good.

"As you can see there is a clear fracture right here," Doctor Matoine said and she pointed to the crack that Enjolras had been staring at. "And like I already thought, it's a hair-line fracture and it will heal on its own. You don't need any surgery, but I am going to stabilize your jaw to limit mobilization. It's a simple procedure which Combeferre will be able to repeat if necessary. Unfortunately the pain will be present for a while but I'll prescribe you some strong painkillers. You won't be able to eat solid food for at least a week, so you'll be on a liquid diet."

Doctor Matoine paused for a second to see if both patient and friend were still following her." I do not like that temperature, but because we're dealing with a minor fracture, I doubt you're developing an infection. We'll still have to wait for your blood test results to be sure, but you do not have to stay in the hospital for that. You can go home as soon as I've stabilized the jaw. And when you're at home, try and take as much rest as you can. It would be unfortunate if you get sick on top of this..."

Enjolras and Combeferre both nodded. To be honest, Enjolras wasn't even really listening anymore after the doctor had told then he could go home. He felt immensely relieved.

"If for some reason you don't feel good or if it feels like something is wrong, or if you have any questions, you can always contact the hospital."

Again, both Enjolras and Combeferre nodded. Soon thereafter, Enjolwas was doped up with his first round of painkillers and Doctor Matoine had showed Combeferre how to stabilize Enjolras' jaw with pressure bandages.

They could finally return home after being in the hospital for three and a half hours. It was already nine o'clock and Combeferre was starting to freak out a little. He had an important test this afternoon, he still had to call Enjolras' school, his father and he promised to call Courfeyrac as well, he had slept no more than five hours and he didn't know if he was comfortable leaving a drugged and injured Enjolras alone at his apartment while he was gone. Maybe Eponine or Bahorel could stay with Enjolras until he got back. Bahorel had moved to Paris two years ago and Eponine at the same time as Combeferre and Joly. Combeferre was sure they would be willing to keep an eye on their friend if they were able.

The medical student glanced down at the sleeping form leaning heavily against him and couldn't help but smile. Though the circumstances were anything but preferable, Combeferre felt happy to have Enjolras with him. He pressed a soft kiss on top of the golden curls and sat back in the cab that drove them back to Combeferre's apartment. He'd deal with everything once they were home and Enjolras comfortably tugged back into bed. Of one thing Combeferre was sure however. He was never letting Enjolras go home to his father unless the man got his act together and dealt with his problems for once and for all.

TBC.

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(_Hope you liked this chapter! Please let me know and review? Thanks!)_


	5. Chapter 5

_(Hi guys! Thank you for your support on this story. Means a lot! This took me a while to get up, but I hope you like it.)  
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With a heavy sigh, Combeferre let himself fall back on his couch. He closed his eyes and for the hundredth time that day, he wondered why this had to happen now. He was tired, his thoughts were all over the place and most of all, he was worried. Combeferre doubted he was going to do well on his test today, but he couldn't even quite get himself to care, because his concern for his young friend dominated all other feelings.

When they got back from the hospital, Combeferre had put Enjolras straight to bed. His friend already got his painkillers at the doctors and he hardly even woke up when Combeferre guided the blonde from the car back up to his apartment. After that, the medical student had called Eponine, who was thankfully available to keep an eye on Enjolras while he was out to do his test. Combeferre also called Courfeyrac, Jehan and Grantaire to let them know that their friend was safe and that he would stay in Paris until Combeferre's Christmas break began. He only told Jehan about the fact that Enjolras' father had hit him and broke his jaw, because Combeferre feared that if he told either Courfeyrac or Grantaire, they would both see red and marge straight on to Monsieur Enjolras' house. And Combeferre didn't think Enjolras would appreciate that, no matter the good intentions behind it. Jehan was furious too, of course, but he knew that at this point it was best if they would mind their own business until Enjolras had figured out what he wanted to do.

Next in line was Enjolras' school. Combeferre was glad that Valjean was still the principal. He knew the man quite well from volunteering together at the homeless shelter with Enjolras. Valjean, of course, also knew about the difficult situation Enjolras found himself in. Not just because he was the principal of the school, but also because he became some sort of counselor to Combeferre and the medical student still emailed the man now and then to tell him about his worries and to ask him to keep an eye on his best friend. Therefore, Combeferre wasn't nervous at all when he called the school. He knew Valjean would understand and just as he had expected, Enjolras was so far ahead of his classes that it couldn't hurt for him to miss the final week before the Christmas holidays. Combeferre didn't tell the headmaster everything. He only told him that Enjolras and his father got into a very bad fight and that Enjolras needed some time apart to get back from it. It was obvious that Valjean doubted that that was the full extent of the story, but he didn't force Combeferre to elaborate. 

* * *

Now there was only one person left to call and the young student was most reluctant to do so. He remembered his conversation with Enjolras' father the night before, but he wondered if the man in question did as well. He had been smashed. And since Combeferre hadn't received any phone calls or text messages after three am in the morning, he concluded that the man was either still out cold or he had forgotten about everything. Combeferre dragged a hand across his face and uttered another sigh. He briefly thought about Enjolras' mother and he wondered what she would have to say about this whole situation. She would be devastated that her family was falling apart, of that Combeferre was sure.

He glanced towards the clock. It was already nearing one in the afternoon and Eponine would be here within the next hour, so that Combeferre could catch her up on Enjolras' condition before he left. That meant that if he wanted to call Enjolras' dad, he had to do it now. With a final sigh, he selected the man's number in his phone and he waited. It had to ring eight times until there was an answer.

"Hello?" The person on the other side of the line sounded tired and cranky and Combeferre was sure he had just called him awake. He rolled his eyes.

"Monsieur Enjolras. This is Combeferre."

There was a moment of silence, but Combeferre could clearly hear the gasp on the other side of the line and that at least was a sign that the man hadn't forgotten about the events that occurred the day before. Luckily, because Combeferre wasn't sure if he would have been able to keep his cool if that was the case.

"Combeferre…I…," the man stuttered and he groaned. He was no longer drunk and his voice didn't sound slurred, so for that Combeferre was glad. But it was obvious the man was dealing with a hangover and the medical student hoped that if was a hangover from hell. "Thank you for calling me back… How…H-How is Julien? I-Is he still there? Can you put him on the phone please?"

Combeferre pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He was glad that Enjolras' father wasn't drunk, but he had to admit that it was a lot easier to be angry at a drunk dad than at this guilt-ridden father. The young student could clearly hear the tears and sorrow in his voice and he wasn't sure how to deal with that.

"He's asleep…," Combeferre said quietly. "You broke his jaw, monsieur."

The silence that followed was abruptly broken by a muffled sob. Combeferre hated doing this to the obviously broken man, but he brought it on himself and the young student refused to feel sorry for or go easy on him. So, while Enjolras' father continued crying, Combeferre continued.

"He woke up early this morning and he was hurting terribly so I took him to the hospital. They took some x-rays and he has a hairline fracture in his lower jawbone on the left side. Luckily it'll heal on its own, so he won't need surgery or anything like that. But the doctor had to immobilize his jaw to limit his movement. He won't be able to talk or eat anything solid for at least a week. The pain will last for a couple of days, so he's got heavy painkillers that pretty much knock him out."

Combeferre wanted to say more, but he kept silent when he heard the man on the other side mumble the same words over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please Marie, please forgive me, I'm so sorry…" His heart twisted painfully at hearing the name of Enjolras' mother and Combeferre's eyes filled with tears. He didn't know how to deal with this. He didn't know what was the right decision. He didn't know if he could trust Enjolras' father. Sure, the man seemed to regret it all now, but what would happen when he started drinking again? Enjolras wasn't safe there. Not anymore.

"Combeferre?" The soft voice pulled the young student out of his thoughts. "Combeferre… Please… You have to know that I am so sorry for what happened. I never meant for that to happen… God… I love Julien, I love him more than anything, you know that. I just… I don't know, he makes me so angry sometimes and I lose control and I know it is not an excuse, but please. You have to believe me. I'm not a bad father. I'm not. I need to talk to him. He has to know I'm sorry. He has to know that I love him."

Combeferre believed him. There wasn't a single hair on his head that doubted the man's words. But though Enjolras' father might say that he loves his son and though Combeferre believes him when he does, the fact remained that he still hit Enjolras. And that is something that Combeferre refused to look past.

"Monsieur," he said quietly, interrupting the man's desperate string of apologies, "I know you never meant this to happen. But it did. And I cannot ignore that."

The man on the other side of the line grew quiet again.

"This can't go on any longer. Ever since your wife passed you have been spiraling out of control and you know that is the truth. Don't think I don't know about all the fights and the hateful words that have been said between the two of you. I know more than you think. To be honest, I know everything that transpires between the two of you. Julien and I talk every day. But I never would have thought that it would get this bad. I never would have thought you capable of hitting him. And now that it did, I don't feel comfortable to bring him back to you."

"It won't happen again Combeferre," Enjolras' father muttered brokenly. "It won't… Besides, he is still my son. It is not your call to make. You're only a friend."

A pang of angers shot through the medical student and he gripped his phone tightly. Only a friend. How dare he. "Don't test me monsieur. I have an underage boy here in my apartment, who fled your house, who is afraid of going home and who has a broken jaw. I only have to make one call and you'll be lucky if you get him back at all."

Silence again. And so Combeferre continued.

"Something has to happen, monsieur. This has to change. I have had enough of this. Julien is staying here, with me, until the end of this term. I have called principal Valjean this morning and he agrees with me. I'll take him back home when Christmas break starts. Until then, you won't get to see or speak to him, unless he decides differently. He needs some time apart from you and you need to deal with your problems. I refuse to let him go back to your home as long as you can't stay away from the drink."

Combeferre fell silent when he heard Enjolras' father agree. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and listened.

"You are right… Combeferre, I know something has to change and I am willing to do my best. I respect your arguments and to be honest, I am very grateful that Julien has a protective friend such as yourself… But please… I do need to talk to him. I need to tell him that I love him. You understand that, right Combeferre? Please?"

Combeferre bit his lip and glanced at the clock. Half an hour had already gone by and Combeferre knew Eponine would be here any minute now. He needed to break off the conversation. Not only because of the time, but because his heart couldn't go on with this any longer.

"If Julien wants to talk to you, then he can. If he doesn't, then I will not push him in any way. I'll tell him that you called and I'll tell him that you want to speak to him. But that's all I'll do."

Enjolras' father agreed reluctantly and Combeferre was about to say his goodbyes and hang up the phone.

"C-Can I call you though?" the man asked suddenly, "Combeferre, can I call you to ask about him?"

Combeferre let out a deep sigh and shook his head quietly. "You can call me only when you're sober. I have to go now, monsieur. I'll talk to Julien when he wakes up. Take care of yourself. Goodbye."Combeferre didn't give Enjolras' father the chance to respond. He hung up the phone and made his way to his bedroom to see if his best friend was still sleeping soundly. As he watched Enjolras, Combeferre prayed to himself that this time his father would really try and do something about the situation. Combeferre knew how much the man meant to his best friend. He would hate for them to get estranged, to grow apart. He just hoped that it wouldn't already be too late.

A silent knock on his door pulled Combeferre out of his thoughts and he quickly walked over to the living room. He smiled at Eponine and stepped aside to let her in. He knew Enjolras would be happy to see her. Even though the two bickered more often than not, Combeferre knew for a fact that they liked each other and could get along when needed to. He was secretly glad for that, because ever since he moved to Paris, Combeferre developed a little crush on the girl and he hoped that one day he would find the courage to act on his feelings and ask her out.

"Hi 'Ferre," Eponine said softly, greeting him by hugging him close. She didn't know the full extent of the story yet, but Combeferre had already told her that Enjolras had trouble at home and got hurt. Besides, she knew enough about her younger friend's situation to fill in the gaps. "Where's the little troublemaker?"

TBC.

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_(I hope you liked this chapter. Please share your thoughts with me and review. Next chapter I will write my first real scene with Eponine in it. Even though I know she's really younger than Enjolras, I like to think of her as a sort of big sister, especially because I ship her with Combeferre, who is of course like a big brother to Enjolras.)_


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